Love Actually is a Promise
by pieces-of-jade
Summary: Whouffaldi!inspired Love Actually AU (just in time for the holidays; written pre-series 9)


Love Actually AU with my favourite storyline from the film and my favourite couple of all time from any story. Not going to lie, re-watching Love Actually also made me want to write a Souffez!inspired AU of Jamie and Aurélia's plotline too.

No Beta. All mistakes are mine. I own nothing (especially not the dialogue).

FIVE WEEKS TO CHRISTMAS

"Prime Minister, over here!"

"Smile!"

"Congratulations Prime Minister!"

John Smith smiled and waved at the press as he exited his car, although he was sure it came out more like a grimace. He wasn't fond of the paparazzi, but saw it as a cross to bear for his new position. However, just because he understood it was his duty to interact with the media didn't stop him from eagerly seeking refuge in the form of his new home: 10 Downing Street.

"Prime Mini-"

The clamouring of the press was finally shut out as the door shut behind him.

"Welcome, Prime Minister."

John finally smiled his first real smile at Vastra, his beautiful, smart, and put-together right hand.

"I must work on my wave," John huffed cantankerously, his annoyance at himself clearly bleeding into his conversation with Vastra.

"How are you feeling?" Vastra calmly responded, as she tactfully ignored his complaining.

"Erm...cool. Powerful."

"Would you like to meet your household staff?"

"Yes, I would like that very much indeed. Anything to put off actually running the country," he snarked at Vastra.

She merely smiled, used to him and his moods from the campaign.

They entered the adjoining room to the entry hall. John immediately saw a row of staff members lined up for inspection. He idly thought they looked a bit like privates awaiting inspection from their commanding officer.

"This is Dan Strax. He's in charge," Vastra introduced him to the much shorter, stockier man.

"Good morning, sir," Strax said, his posture ramrod straight as he saluted John.

"Er, good morning. Had an uncle called Strax - hated him - I think he was a bit addled in the head," John mused, furrowing his brow in confusion at the salute, as he looked down at the balding man.

Vastra pointedly coughed behind him.

"But I very much like the look of you," John hastily added.

Vastra could barely contain an eye roll as they moved on to the next member of the queue.

"This is Jenny Flint," Vastra warmly introduced.

"Hello, Jenny," John said politely as he shook her hand. He had never seen Vastra look that way at anyone before, and decided it would serve him well to try and not muck up this introduction like the last one.

"Good morning, sir. I'm the housekeeper," Jenny grinned. She was shorter than Vastra, but also pretty with dark hair and a friendly smile.

"Oh, right," John said, "It should be a lot easier with me than with the last lot. No nappies, no teenagers, no scary wife."

Jenny merely smiled at John. He was clearly trying to make a good impression, but his nerves were botching it all up horribly. It really didn't matter too much, though, as he was already moving on to the final person in the row.

"And this is Clara. She's new, like you."

John instantly felt as if he couldn't breathe. Had the room always been this hot? And would it kill somebody to open the windows? He was pretty sure he would have to talk to someone about the faulty ventilation system.

She was tiny. The top of her head barely made it to the top of his chin even in the high heels she wore Her round face and funny nose were framed by the softest looking hair he had ever seen. But what really mesmerized him were her eyes. She had the biggest, chocolate brown eyes he had ever seen - it had to be a trick. She must have inflated them somehow.

"Hello Clara," he finally managed to get out, his Scottish brogue thickening as he rolled the 'r' on his tongue.

'Had his voice always been that rough?' he thought has he clasped her small, warm hand in his.

"Hello John," Clara greeted him warmly, dimples appearing on her cheeks before she realized what she had just said.

She wrenched her hand from his grasp to clasp it over her mouth. Her expression rapidly changed to one of abject horror as she tried to salvage the situation, "I mean, sir. Shit, I can't believe I've just said that. An now I've gone and said 'shit'. Twice. I'm so sorry, sir."

"It's fine, it's fine. You could've said 'fuck' and we'd have been in real trouble," John laughed.

"Thank you, sir. I did have an awful premonition I was gonna fuck up on my first day. Oh, piss it!" Clara's cheeks burned bright red.

John laughed even more. Her youthful honesty was a refreshing break from the dull, stuffy old world he worked in. However, before he could respond Vastra cut in,

"Right, I'll get my things and then let's fix the country, shall we?"

"Yeah, I can't see why not," After one last look, John tore his gaze away from Clara. He had other matters to attend to aside from meeting the staff, after all. But after walking only a few feet, he couldn't help sneaking another glance back at the beautiful woman.

'Oh, no. That is so inconvenient,' he couldn't help but think as he continued to follow after Vastra towards his new office.

xxLove Actually Is All Aroundxx

Clara Oswald. Bright young thing. Talented. Graduated at the top of her class and always in control. Top honours and selected as a junior member of the household staff at Downing Street right out the gate after finishing her masters.

That's what people said about her, what she was known for, and she was confident that she would make a good first impression. She was starting at the same time as the new prime minister, which seemed like a good omen.

What wasn't a good omen was the fact that she couldn't find her mother's wedding ring. She never took it off. Except, of course, for last night, when she didn't want to loose it down the shower drain that she still hadn't replaced the cover for, so she put it somewhere for safe keeping. Apparently, the location was so secure enough that not even she could find it. And if she didn't leave right now, she was going to be late.

"Damn," Clara swore under her breath, "You know what - fine. Sod it."

She gave up rummaging through her night stand. She'd rather be there on time to greet her new boss, the most important man in the country, than be late because she couldn't find a piece of jewelry.

xxLove Is A Promisexx

"Alright everyone! Places! He's going to arrive in 3...2...", Vastra was shouting commands to everyone in the room, completely in charge and at ease with the position.

Clara was already standing at the ready in her spot. Third in the queue after Jenny, right in the main entrance hall - she was going to be one of the first people to be introduced to the prime minister. She was cool, confident, and collected.

That is, she _was_ cool, confident, and collected until she saw him.

Sure, she had seen heard his voice on the radio, read about his campaign. Hell, she'd even voted for him. He had made a lot of good points, particularly about educational reforms. But she was so busy with her studies and making sure she got a good position after graduation she never actually saw what he looked like. Or maybe she did, but forgot about it. Although, she quickly realized that would be impossible. She would never forget a face like his.

He was stupidly tall. Even in her best high heels she barely reached his chin. Her eyes drank in a shock of unruly silver hair so fluffy that it balanced out his eyebrows, which could have ceded from his face and started a new independent nation. His was a face worn with age, and contained electric, soul-piercing blue eyes like the sky over a raging storm. Clara had always had a thing for older men, and he was devastatingly handsome, aging or otherwise.

"Hello Clara."

Dear Lord, his voice. She had heard it before, always had a weakness for Scottish accents, but never in person. She had always been a safe distance away, separated by a tinny little speaker and the robotic feel that a microphone always produces. It should have been illegal for someone to sound like that. And the way he said her name! How his voice dropped as he rolled the 'r' on his tongue was indecent. She should report him. Yes. That's what she should do. As soon as she could find words to respond to his greeting.

"Hello John," Clara smiled, relieved that she had found her words again. Until she realized exactly what she had just said.

"I mean, sir. Shit, I can't believe I've just said that. An now I've gone and said 'shit'. Twice. I'm so sorry, sir."

He laughed. She wanted to bristle, but his deep, throaty laugh made it difficult for her to be properly angry.

"It's fine, it's fine. You could've said 'fuck' and we'd have been in real trouble," he said.

"Thank you, sir. I did have an awful premonition I was gonna fuck up on my first day. Oh, piss it!" Clara's cheeks burned bright red. She couldn't tell if it was because of her embarrassment in stumbling over her words or her frustration at herself for not being in control.

Thankfully, he was called away soon after. As he walked away she let out a breath she didn't realise she had been holding in.

"It's all right," Jenny came up to her and patted her shoulder kindly.

"Did you see what I did?" Clara couldn't help but moan.

"Yes, I did," Jenny smiled mirthfully, clearly amused at Clara's botched introduction.

"I just went 'bleh'," Clara moaned.

She could have curled up in a ball and hid herself away out of mortification. But that wasn't how she dealt with her problems. She faced them head on. Her mum had always told her fear was a superpower.

And after all, she reckoned, it wasn't like she was really going to be interacting with John Smith and his stupid face on a regular basis.

xxLove Actually Is All Aroundxx

FOUR WEEKS TO CHRISTMAS

He had done it. He had run for office and won. He was called "The Doctor" of politics by the media because he seemed to fix everything he set his mind on. Now, he was the Prime Minister of Great Britain, and he was ready to change the nation for the better.

At fifty-three he wasn't a naive lad who was still a bit green entering the political world. He went into the game with his eyes open, and a shrewd knack of understanding how it worked. However, just because he knew how to play the game didn't mean that he enjoyed cabinet meetings any more. Especially since it seemed every one in the room was a pudding brain.

"Okay, what's next?" John asked tiredly, wishing the day could already come to a close.

"The President's visit," said Ricky Smith. Or was it Mickey? John never could remember.

"Ah. Yes. Yes. I fear this is going to be a difficult one to play, everyone. Mr. Smith?" John indicated for him to go on. At least Ricky's last name was easy enough to remember.

"There's a very strong feeling in the party we mustn't allow ourselves to be bullied from pillar to posts, like the last government," Mickey firmly stated. He was met with many "here here"s from around the table, "This is our first really important test, let's take a stand!"

John inwardly groaned. He really didn't want to deal with a macho hot shot personality who thought they could just bully their way through negotiations.

"Right. Right. I understand that but I have decided...not to," John said sardonically, "Not this time. We will, of course, try to be clever...but let's not forget that America is the most powerful country in the world. I'm not going to act like a petulant child."

At least, he wasn't going to act like a petulant child this time. Whatever his sister, Donna, might think he WAS capable of acting like an adult when it suited him. But right now he was tired and irritated. Maybe it wouldn't be too out of place to act a little petulant now.

"Right - now who do you have to screw around here to get a cup of tea and a chocolate biscuit?" he joked, trying to alleviate the tension that was threatening to smother the room after his pronouncement. He also really needed some more sugar if he was going to be here any longer.

Right on cue, after a round of chuckles, the door to the meeting room opened, and a most shapely behind made its appearance into the room. It was quickly followed by its owner, a Miss Clara Oswald, complete with tea trolley and biscuits.

"Right."

xxLove Is A Promisexx

"You need me to do what?" Clara asked incredulously.

She had joined the household staff hoping to get a foot in the door to the world of politics. Maybe hear a tidbit of juicy gossip. Not play the Intern and deliver tea to a room full of cabinet ministers.

"You heard me, come on!" Jenny said brusquely. She understood the younger woman's frustrations, but everyone had to pay their dues. And in this case they were short-staffed today, which meant Clara's dues came in the form of taking tea and biscuits to the cabinet meeting room.

Clara huffed, but silently obeyed. She was still living the dream. She had a post at Downing Street, even if it was a small one right now, at the age of twenty-five, and she could do this.

Or maybe she couldn't. She couldn't figure out how to open the door and lead the trolley in at the same time. The trolley was too long for her arms to reach the handle if she pushed the cart in front of her. Well, nothing for it. She turned around and backed up, opening the door behind her to ease the trolley in.

"... and a chocolate biscuit?" Clara heard the trail end of the joke accompanied by a ripple of laughter around the room. It was HIS voice. But she remained determined to appear unperturbed and professional as she stood in front of the meeting area. Surely politicians made meaningless jokes all the time.

But that was before the random politician was HIM. To be fair, he looked just as shocked as she felt when he realized she was the one bringing in the refreshments. But that still didn't make her feel any better about how with just one look she felt out of control and out of her depth.

xxLove Is Actually All Aroundxx

He loved his job. He loved being able to make a real difference in the lives of every day citizens. He walked the same earth and breathed the same air as everyone else. He had a duty to make a contribution to his fellow inhabitants of the plant. But that didn't stop filling out paperwork from being worse than facing down a soldier from the Skaro division in the enemy's military.

Knock. Knock.

"Yup. Come in," John sighed, relieved to have any sort of distraction from the tedium of the mess in front of him. Especially if that distraction came in the form of -

"These have just come through from the Treasury..." Clara said, her arms filled with folders and a tray. She was wearing a pale blue blouse and silver grey skirt today. There was something about the combination that was familiar to him, he just couldn't place it.

"Uh huh," he replied intelligently.

Clara moved towards his desk to drop off the files, "...and these are for you."

Her dimples showed when she dropped off his tea, extra sugar bowl beside it, along with his favourite chocolate biscuits.

"Excellent. Thanks a lot," he grinned, flashing his teeth at her before wincing slightly. He didn't want to scare her off, and his grin was described by his sister as being a bit manic.

Clara nodded, beginning to move away before she said rather abruptly, "You know, I was hoping you'd win. Not that I wouldn't have been nice to the other bloke too. It's just that I've always given him the boring biscuits with no chocolate."

"Ha! Thanks very much. Thanks..." he trailed off as she moved towards the door, undoubtedly to get back to some real work, unlike whatever he was doing, "...Clara."

She smiled at him once more before shutting the door behind her. As soon at the click of the door sounded he banged his head on the desk.

"Oh God, come on, get a grip. You're the Prime Minister, for God's sake," he muttered to himself, grateful that no one was around to hear him.

xxLove Is A Promisexx

"Yup. Come in."

He really wasn't playing fair. He was not allowed to roll his shirt sleeves up while he worked, and a hand had clearly been running through his shock of silver hair as it was even fluffier than usual. And he certainly was breaking some law for owning a pair of glasses like that - not to mention wearing them. If she hadn't thought he was a silver fox before, there was no doubt about his status now.

"These have just come through from the Treasury...", she said, her hands clutching the relevant folders and tea tray.

"Uh huh," he replied absently. He was probably focused on something more important than her small delivery.

She moved towards his desk to drop off the files, "...and these are for you."

She smiled as she set down his tea, extra sugar bowl beside it, along with his favourite chocolate biscuits. Despite her first muck up, she still wanted to make a good impression.

"Excellent. Thanks a lot," he grinned, slightly manic, but definitely not off putting.

She nodded, clearly dismissed, and started to make her exit before she stopped. It wasn't like she got many chances to interact one on one with the prime minister like this, "You know, I was hoping you'd win. Not that I wouldn't have been nice to the other bloke too. It's just that I've always given him the boring biscuits with no chocolate."

It was true. After doing her internship with the other campaign during the election she assumed all politicians liked plain, boring biscuits since that's all they ever requested.

"Ha! Thanks very much. Thanks..." he trailed off, clearly puzzled why she told him that information. Not that she could exactly say why she felt like he needed to know that particular fact.

Remembering that she had more than enough work elsewhere to keep her busy, she smiled as she left. She had more important and useful things to do beside regaling the prime minister with biscuit anecdotes. But not before she heard the last "...Clara" as she shut the door behind her.

xxLove Is Actually All Aroundxx

"I'll deal with it,' said Rory as he shook John's hand.

John merely grunted his agreement as Rory left his office and Clara came in.

"Ah, Clara," John greeted her, still standing by his open office door.

"Sir," she politely smiled at him, quickly dropping off a few of the documents in her arms on his desk before turning to leave once more.

"Thanks," John muttered, moving towards his desk.

Sod it. He was the Prime Minister.

"Clara."

She turned around, standing on the threshold of his office, looking at him. Her huge brown eyes were practically inflated. A man could get lost in them. Why was she looking at him again? Oh yeah. He had said her name to get her attention. Well, he had it. Now what?

"Erm, I'm starting to feel...uncomfortable about us working in such close proximity every day and me knowing so little about you, it seems elitist and wrong." John tried to joke and "act casual", as his sister would have said.

"Well, there's not much to know," Clara smiled, rather too enigmatically for John's tastes. Not much to know? He inwardly scoffed. She was a mystery, wrapped in an enigma, squeezed into a skirt that was just a little bit too tight.

"Well, erm, where do you live, for instance?" He asked, cringing slightly, after realizing how stalker-ish that potentially sounded.

"Wandsworth. The dodgy end."

Clara was still smiling, so that had to count for something. Perhaps he wasn't too old and out of tune with this whole flirting thing as he thought, as he replied, "Ah, my sister lives in Wandsworth."

"Oh."

Okay. He was totally wrong. "Oh" was not exactly an engaging response that indicated she was positively riveted by their conversation and couldn't wait for it to continue.

"So which exactly is the dodgy end?" he asked.

'Might as well persevere since you've made it this far,' he thought, 'Can't exactly dig yourself a bigger hole."

"Right at the end of the high street, Harris Street, near the Queen's Head."

"Right, yes, that is dodgy." he floundered, at a loss for what to say next.

'Hm."

He could tell she had nothing else to say to him. That was fine. She could leave. Probably had a lot of other things she needed to do. Like him. He needed to be doing important things. Running the country type of things. Right. Time to dismiss her then, say a polite goodbye.

"So do you live with your husband? Boyfriend? Three illegitimate but charming children?"

He was horrified. Never before had his mouth worked so independently from his brain. Well, he was already digging a hole to begin with, might as well drill on through straight to China. And it's not exactly like he asked something he wasn't secretly dying to know the answer to. Not that he would admit it. Even to himself.

"No, I've just split up with my boyfriend actually, so I'm back with my dad, step-mum, and gran for a while."

"Ah. Sorry," he had always been told he was a good liar.

"No, it's fine. I'm well shot of him. He said I was unable to tell him the truth."

"I beg your pardon?"

"He said no one'd fancy a girl who kept lying to him. 'Suppose he was right in a way. He was the perfect boyfriend. A little too perfect, I think. I never felt like I could tell him anything, since I didn't think I could ever be as perfect as him."

John stared at her blankly. She thought someone was too perfect for HER? If such a thing was true, perish the thought of what his character would be measured against. She was perfect. Perfect in every way for him.

"Right...you know, erm...being Prime Minister, I could just have him mysteriously vanish. Poof. It would be like he never existed," he said. No filter from his thoughts to his mouth - just how he apparently preferred it if this conversation was any indication.

"Thank you, sir. I'll think about it," Clara smiled again, this time with her dimples showing.

"Do. The SAS are absolutely charming. Ruthless, trained professionals are just a phone call away," John joked as she closed the door behind her, a smile still lingering on her face as she left.

He sighed, deeply, as he looked over to previous occupant River Song's portrait on the wall.

"Oh, God. Did you have this kind of problem? Yeah, course you did, you saucy minx."

xxLove Is A Promisexx

'You're just going to drop off the documents Clara. In and out. That's it.' she repeated this mantra over and over to herself. So far she had only been in John - Mr. Smith - the Prime Minister's office a handful of times, but each time she went in it never seemed like she could leave without one of them saying something awkward or doing something embarrassing.

She reached his door at the perfect time, Rory was just leaving so she could just pop in and out except-

"Ah, Clara," John greeted her, standing by his open office door.

"Sir," she politely smiled. Damn him. He wasn't supposed to be that close to her. He was supposed to be a safe, professional distance away, seated behind the firm barrier of his desk.

She practically threw the documents onto his already over flowing "IN" tray before she made a bee line straight for the door. She could do this.

"Clara."

Sod it all. She turned around, standing on the threshold of his office doorway, looking at him. He had moved back towards his desk, piercing stare focused on her.

"Erm, I'm starting to feel...uncomfortable about us working in such close proximity every day and me knowing so little about you, it seems elitist and wrong."

Clara felt her eyes widen in disbelief. What was he playing at? What did he expect her to say in response? Didn't he have more important work to get back to doing?

"Well, there's not much to know," she said politely.

There honestly wasn't anything extraordinary about her. Mum died when she was sixteen. Gave up her dreams of traveling the world in order to be there for her dad. When their family friends, the Maitlands, also suffered a loss she went to help look after the children during university. She initially majored in education, but decided to switch over to politics when she realized she wanted to make a difference in the world in a different way. Little did she know that the different way included a certain Doctor of politics, a certain John Smith.

"Well, erm, where do you live, for instance?"

'Down boy, there's such a thing as too keen,' she thought, smiling to herself. However, since she didn't feel comfortable enough around him to say that aloud, she merely replied, "Wandsworth. The dodgy end."

"Ah, my sister lives in Wandsworth," he said.

"Oh," Clara didn't have anything to say in response to that, and was unsure what he was looking for anyways.

"So which exactly is the dodgy end?"

He was persistent, she'd give him that.

"Right at the end of the high street, Harris Street, near the Queen's Head."

"Right, yes, that is dodgy."

"Hm," Clara noncommittally hummed. She sensed the conversation was coming to a close, a natural segue back into their normal routines without one another when-

"So, do you live with your husband? Boyfriend? Three illegitimate but charming children?"

Clara blinked. She was never one who enjoyed the immature games boys played with her during university. She liked men who were a bit more direct. Men who were direct and charming, who knew what they wanted.

"No, I've just split up with my boyfriend actually, so I'm back with my dad, step-mum, and gran for a while."

"Ah. Sorry," his voice was contrite, but the twinkle in his eyes looked anything but remorseful.

"No, it's fine. I'm well shot of him. He said I was unable to tell him the truth," Clara stated boldly.

She hadn't been able to say it without some sort of painful clench in her stomach before now, but since taking this job and starting a new chapter in her life she decided what was past was in the past. It was time to move forward.

"I beg your pardon?"

"He said no one'd fancy a girl who kept lying to him. 'Suppose he was right in a way. He was the perfect boyfriend. A little too perfect, I think. I never felt like I could tell him anything, since I didn't think I could ever be as perfect as him," Clara had been told that honesty was the best policy, but this might have been a bit too forward even for her mum.

"Right...you know, erm...being Prime Minister, I could just have him mysteriously vanish. Poof. It would be like he never existed."

He was quite adorable when he was flustered. Like a little owl who kept hooting because it just wanted some attention.

"Thank you, sir. I'll think about it."

Clearly he hadn't practiced flirting in a while. Or maybe this was his own special way of going about it. Awkwardly, a bit huffy, but inadvertently charming in his own way.

"Do. The SAS are absolutely charming. Ruthless, trained professionals are just a phone call away."

Clara couldn't help the smile that was spreading over her face as she left the room.

xxLove Actually Is All Aroundxx

THREE WEEKS TO CHIRSTMAS

"Mr. President!"

"Over here, sir!

"What will you be talking about?!"

"Mr. President, welcome," John greeted, shaking the hand of the President of the United States of America, Mr. Harold Saxon.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," President Saxon said, although John couldn't help but feel slightly on edge with how he said it. It felt hollow, somehow, as if Harold Saxon was just an empty facade for the man underneath.

The clamour of the press melted away as the politician was lead inside Number 10.

"Come on through. I'm sorry your wife couldn't make it by the way," John attempted to make polite conversation anyways, since Vastra would kill him if he didn't, and it wouldn't do to upset one of the most powerful figures in the world besides.

"So is she. Although she would have been kind of lonely, I'm sure..." President Saxon trailed off significantly.

"Yes. Pathetic, isn't it? Just never been able to tie a girl down. I'm not sure politics and dating really go together," John self-deprecatingly mused.

"Really? I've never found that," Saxon grinned.

It was official. President Saxon set his teeth on edge.

"Yes, well, the difference is that you're sickeningly handsome, whereas I look increasingly like an aging Roman official. Or maybe a washed up rock star," John chuckled mirthlessly.

Just then Clara walked by, undoubtably on her way to do something far more pleasant than negotiate policies with a slimy politician.

"Ah, Clara. Hi," John attempted to go for a professional greeting, but felt like he missed the mark by quite a wide margin.

"Morning, ma'am. How's your day so far?" Saxon smoothly greeted her with a charming smile to top it off. Prat.

Clara nodded towards him with a polite smile on her lips.

"Excellent," Saxon grinned again as she walked away.

"My goodness that's a pretty little son of a bitch. Did you see those pipes?" he inquired of John.

"Yes, she's terrific...at her job," John trailed off, clearly unamused at Saxon's comment. Yet he couldn't precisely say what about it irked him so much. Clearly it was a strictly professional concern. He couldn't have the President of the United States thinking that he could just insult HIS staff members like that. She was much more than just a set of pretty legs. Even if she had those too.

xxLove Is A Promisexx

"No, absolutely not. We cannot and will not consult on that either," Jack Harkness exclaimed, outraged by the demands Saxon was making.

"That is unexpected," Mickey agreed.

John could've groaned and buried his face in his hands. The meeting between the American delegation and his cabinet could not have been more of a disaster.

"Well it shouldn't be. The last administration made it perfectly clear. We are just being consistent with their policies," Saxon's eyes glinted in the dim office lighting, a polite politician's smile plastered on his face.

"But, with all respect, they were bad policies," Jack fumed, attempting to keep his temper in check.

"Right, thanks Jack. I don't think we're making progress here. Let's...move on, shall we?" John tactfully navigated the topic of conversation elsewhere, but not without leveling a hard stare at Saxon and receiving one in return.

xxLove Actually Is All Aroundxx

A few hours later and the meeting was finally over. John was relaxing, if it could be called that, with Saxon in an adjoining sitting room to the offices.

"Well now, that was an interesting day," John brusquely commented.

"I'm sorry if our line was firm - there's no point tiptoeing around today, and then just disappointing you for four years. I have plans and I plan to see them through," Saxon said.

"Absolutely," John agreed. He understood having plans that he meant to see through. The only question was how to do so when his alleged ally was looking more and more like his enemy every minute, "There is one final thing I think we should look at - very close to my heart. If you could just give me a second."

"I'll give you anything you ask for. As long as it's not something I don't want to give," Saxon smirked, his eyes twinkling with a type of humourless mirth.

John merely grimaced in return and walked to the other room to retrieve the necessary documents.

"Hi," he muttered to a passing staff member, barely looking up to see who it was, when he returned to see the door leading to the room he and Saxon were just in was partially closed.

When he pushed it open he could've been sick. He had only been out of the room for thirty seconds when a new person had entered. It was Clara. She was sickeningly close to Saxon, who was leaning over her form, which was pressed up against the back of a sofa. One of his greasy hands was halfway up her skirt, and the other was pushing back her hair.

Caught red handed, Saxon merely looked up and smiled at John, who was frozen in the doorway.

"It's great Scotch," he said, raising his glass as he leaned back from Clara.

"I'll, erm...I'll be going then," Clara awkwardly proclaimed as she scooted around Saxon's body, which had been caging her to the couch cushions.

"Clara, I hope to see much more of you as our countries work toward a better future," Saxon leered as she scurried towards the door.

"Thank you, sir," Clara muttered before hastily leaving the two great leaders to get back to work.

xxLove Is A Promisexx

She just had to drop off the drinks tray along with some last minute treaties and she could go home. Clara had had an exhausting day what with preparing for the President's arrival along with all her other normal duties. And she couldn't wait to go home and relax.

Just as she was about to enter the room, John walked out of it. And he was John, to her, in her own private thoughts, she could admit that to herself.

"Hi," he muttered, clearly not paying her any attention, too pre-occupied with whatever was on his mind.

Shrugging it off as both of them having long days, she entered the room to find President Saxon alone, idly standing in the room, clearly waiting for John to get back.

"Mr. President," she greeted politely, setting the tray and documents down on the side table next to the sofa.

"Clara, right?" he grinned at her as he moved towards the tray and poured himself a bottle of scotch.

She inwardly sighed. Clearly he wanted to talk, and it wasn't exactly the kind of talking she was interested in, either.

"Yes, sir," she said politely, working out how to escape the situation when he decided for her. She was still by the sofa, just having set down her items, when he leaned over her, trapping her body between his own and the back of the sofa cushions. One hand quickly going up her skirt while the other caressed her face. Clara was just working out how to get him off of her without starting an international incident when the door opened.

She could've died right then from sheer frustration and embarrassment. Of course the last person in the world she wanted to see right now was currently the one staring at her and the President of the United States of America engaged in a deceivingly intimate posture.

"It's great Scotch," the prat actually had the nerve to say to John, who was still standing a bit shell shocked in the doorway.

"I'll, erm...I'll be going then," Clara awkwardly proclaimed, as she edged out around Saxon and made a bee line for the exit.

"Clara, I hope to see much more of you as our countries work toward a better future," Saxon leered.

She internally shuddered as she left, "Thank you, sir."

xxLove Actually Is All Aroundxx

John really didn't want to be here. He didn't like the press on the best days, and today was definitely one of his worst. He couldn't sleep last night, not that he exactly had much time for the luxury after the policy talks with President Saxon long into the wee hours of the morning. But the few moments he could've caught a quick cat nap were instead dedicated to playing the image of Saxon and Clara over and over again in his head.

With an acute lack of sleep and plenty of bitter resentment towards the man standing beside him, John called on the next reporter, "Er, yes, Craig?"

"Mr. President, has it been a good visit?"

"Very satisfactory indeed. We got what we came for and our special relationship is still very special," Saxon grinned at the cameras, but his eyes still gleamed like polished obsidian, cunningly empty.

"Prime Minister?" Craig looked at him.

John took a deep breath. This was one of those fixed points in time his dad always seemed to go on about. A moment of choice that he couldn't take back. And with sudden clarity, he knew what he had to say.

"I love that word 'relationship'. Covers all manner of sins, doesn't it? I fear that this has become a bad relationship. A relationship based on the President taking what he wants and casually ignoring all those things that really matter to..." John stumbled over his words when he saw Clara at the back of the room amongst the sea of reporters, "...erm, Britain."

Their eyes locked and he couldn't help but notice hers, huge and shining with such faith in her eyes that he couldn't help the corners of his mouth curling upwards in a small smile.

"We may be a small country but we're a great one too. The country of Shakespeare, Churchill, the Beatles, Sean Connery, Harry Potter, David Beckham's right foot, and Doctor Who! And a friend who bullies us is no longer a friend. And since bullies only respond to strength, from now onward, I will be prepared to be much stronger. And the President should be prepared for that," John concluded triumphantly, looking over at Saxon who looked nothing short of speechless.

"Mr. President!"

The room was in complete uproar and John wouldn't have had it any other way.

xxLove Is A Promisexx

"It's your sister on line four," Amy Pond informed him, the room of politicians, press, and other important people still buzzing with what happened earlier during the press conference.

"All right. Er, yes, I'm very busy and important, how can I help you?" John snarked, grinning into the receiver.

"Oi! Space Boy! Have you gone completely insane?!"

Ah. There was that shriek he missed from his days growing up with his fiery, red headed sister.

"You can't be sensible all the time," John laughed, a bit manically. He was still riding out the tide of euphoria his speech had produced, and the epiphany he had had during its delivery.

"You can if you're Prime Minister," Donna chastised him.

"Oh would you look at that - it's the Chancellor on the other line," John said airily, making to hang up the phone.

"It isn't!"

"I'll call you back."

Click.

"No you won't!" Donna laughed into the dead connection, realizing that the problem with being the Prime Minister's sister is that it puts your life into a rather harsh perspective.

xxLove Actually Is All Aroundxx

Clara didn't sleep at all last night. A quick ride home, a long time in the shower, and an even longer soak in the tub - nothing made her feel any better, or cleaner, after her interaction with the slimy president. But for some reason the main thing that bothered her wasn't that. She knew she could've handled the situation just fine on her own. It was the fact that John had seen her in such a compromising position that had her up half the night.

She wanted to explain herself - explain what, she wasn't exactly sure - but she wanted to talk to him. That one thing was for certain. The only problem was he wasn't exactly the easiest man in the world to get some one on one time with. It didn't matter that she actually worked in his place of residence. And it certainly didn't help that at the moment she was stuck in the back of a room at a press conference. Physically, he was merely a few feet in front of her, but he might as well have been halfway across the world for all the personal contact she could feasibly have with him in this moment. Bloody press.

With all of this inner turmoil, Clara had tuned out to what was happening around her. Snapping back to attention she heard-

"Mr. President, has it been a good visit?" Craig, one of the reporters, asked.

"Very satisfactory indeed. We got what we came for and our special relationship is still very special."

'Git,' Clara couldn't help but resentfully think.

"Prime Minister?"

At the start of his speech he seemed different. Somehow more collected, powerful, and steadfastly resolute than she had ever seen him before. He had complete control of the room and he knew it.

'When did that thermostat break?' Clara couldn't help but wonder as she stared at the figure who was her boss, the most powerful man in Great Britain, and also the man she couldn't help but be drawn to. He had a sort of charisma about himself that just drew people in, and she was hooked - couldn't get enough of her addiction.

"...all those things that really matter to...erm..."

But Clara didn't even hear his small slip-up because she was too preoccupied by the fact that their eyes were locked. He truly saw her. Clara Oswald. His stormy blue eyes never wavering as he finished his sentence with, "...Britain".

He cleared his throat, and suddenly broke their silent communication. It was as if he had remembered that there were other people in the room, and continued on, "We may be a small country but we're a great one too. The country of Shakespeare, Churchill, the Beatles, Sean Connery, Harry Potter, David Beckham's right foot, and Doctor Who! And a friend who bullies us is no longer a friend. And since bullies only respond to strength, from now onward, I will be prepared to be much stronger. And the President should be prepared for that."

All hell broke loose. The room was a flurry of cameras, recorders, microphones, and hands thrust into the air, all the reporters out of their seats, in an uproar, moving pushing towards the front of the room.

"Mr. President!"

As the crashing waves of the press descended on the politicians, Clara smiled and kept to the back of the room. There would be time to discuss John's heroic stand with him later. She would make sure of it.

xxLove Is A Promisexx

"It's almost enough to make you feel patriotic, so here's one for our arse-kicking prime minister. I think he'll enjoy this. 'A golden oldie for a golden oldie,'" the radio presenter cheerfully announced.

John couldn't help himself. He was positively giddy with energy. He had just stood up to the most powerful man in the world and came out triumphant. His leadership was off to a good start, and it was almost Christmas. So there was really only one thing left to do when the radio played such a good song. Sometimes, the Doctor of Politics dances.

That is, he was dancing - until he was mid-sprinkler and turned to find Clara Oswald in the doorway of his chambers.

John immediately stopped dancing, and clapped his hands together.

"Yeah, erm, Clara, I've been thinking. Can you please let Vastra know we need to move the Japanese ambassador to four o'clock tomorrow?"

"Certainly, sir," Clara said seriously, but she completely failed to stifle the mirth dancing behind her eyes.

"Terrific. Thanks so much," John quickly said before making a hasty retreat. Of course it had to be her. He was beginning to think that she only appeared at the most impossible of times.

xxLove Actually Is All Aroundxx

Once again it seemed, Clara just had to drop off a few files before she could leave. This time, at least, they were for Jack Harkness instead of the Prime Minister. However, as she was walking towards Jack's desk she heard the sound of the radio blaring from the room to her left.

She paused, curious about why it would be on so loudly at this time of night when she saw a sight she never thought would ever exist. John was there, dancing, by himself, doing what looked like dance moves from about two decades ago.

She couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her, but immediately schooled her expression into something much more serious when John saw her mid-"sprinkler" move.

Right away John's dancing came screeching to a halt. He clapped his hands together awkwardly trying to pass off the moment as one of dignified contemplation.

"Yeah, erm, Clara, I've been thinking. Can you please let Vastra know we need to move the Japanese ambassador to four o'clock tomorrow?"

"Certainly, sir," Clara said, keeping a straight face as best she could.

"Terrific. Thanks so much," John said before all but running out of the room.

Clara definitely couldn't hold in her grin as soon as he was out of sight, chortling to herself all the rest of the way to Jack's desk.

xxLove Is A Promisexx

TWO WEEKS TO CHRISTMAS

He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't have such an infatuation with the small, impossible girl he worked with every day. It was unbecoming for the prime minister to fall for a girl under his employment. And more than that it was just plain wrong for a man of his age to still be thinking about romancing a woman who was probably twenty years his junior.

"Vastra. My darling, my dream, my boat. Ah...Need you to do a favour for me," John said to his right hand after she finished briefing him on the rest of his weekly schedule.

"Of course. Anything for the hero of the hour," Vastra smiled at him.

"Don't ask me why, and don't read stuff into this, it's just a weird personality thing. But, erm, you know Clara who works here?"

"The short, roundish girl?" Vastra inquired.

"Ooh, would we call her round?" John cringed. He didn't like Vastra's tone about Clara's appearance, and he had always had an affinity for round things, anyways.

"I think there's a pretty sizable face there, yes, sir. Huge eyes," Vastra said pointedly, as she considered John's reaction.

"Yeah. Well, whatever, erm...I'm sure she's a lovely girl but I wonder if you could, erm...redistribute her?" John winced slightly. Clearly his subtle, clean break in association with Clara was not as suave and off-handed as he would have liked.

"It's done," Vastra said, looking at him shrewdly before she left his office.

xxLove Actually Is All Aroundxx

ONE WEEK TO CHRISTMAS

Knock. Knock.

"Yeah?" John called.

"Prime Minister," one of the not-Clara staff members said politely to him as they dropped of his tea. With no sugar and only plain biscuits.

John merely grunted in response. It had only been a week since he had "redistributed" Clara and he already felt like he was surrounded by pudding brains, and, more importantly, not-Claras. It was messing up his delicately balanced inner state of not caring. And he wasn't happy about it.

xxLove Is A Promisexx

It had been two weeks since the Incident, as she referred to it in her mind, with the President. It had also been two weeks since she saw him dancing. But most importantly it had been one full week since she was transferred over to the educational reform department, away from the household staff at 10 Downing Street.

A few weeks ago she would've been overjoyed at the transfer. It was in the department that she had really wanted to work at the most. She also had a decent junior post from which she could easily rise up in the ranks to maybe even the Secretary of State for Education.

But she couldn't help but feel like it was a hollow victory. An empty post. And although she didn't want to examine exactly why that was, her brain couldn't help but point out the department as a whole was lacking a certain something. Something which took shape in her mind as someone with a shock of silver hair, fierce eyebrows, and sharp ice blue eyes.

xxLove Actually Is All Aroundxx

It was Christmas Eve. Or at least, the eve of Christmas Eve and John finally had a moment of peace to himself on this quiet Wednesday night. Setting aside his paperwork, he decided to take a break and look at the stack of Christmas cards sitting on the table next to him.

Scanning through them he saw some from Jenny and Strax, even one from Jack before opening a card with a funny snowman on the front. It read:

Dear Sir,

Dear John,

Merry Christmas and I hope you have a very happy New Year. I'm very sorry about the thing that happened. It was a very odd moment and I feel like a prize idiot. Particularly because - if you can't say it at Christmas, when can you, eh? - I'm actually yours.

With Love,

xxx

Your Clara

He immediately sat the card back down on the table. Hope was a dangerous thing and it was quickly breaking through the initial shock he had reading the card. John quickly picked the card back up, as if he was afraid it might disappear from him before he could have it in his hands again.

Opening the card, the words, "Your Clara" seemed to jump out at him. They were permanently burned behind his eyes, and seared into his hearts.

He had long ago given up the question of whether or not he was hers. That was decided a long time ago. So it seemed like there was only one logical way to proceed from here.

He quickly wrenched his phone from his pocket.

"Vastra, yeah, I need a car. Right now. Thank you. I'd like to go to Wandsworth, the dodgy end."

xxLove Is A Promisexx

"Very good, sir. Harris Street. What number, sir?" his driver announced.

The houses seemed to go on for ages, stretching down on both sides for miles. John groaned.

"Oh God, it's the longest street in the world. And I have absolutely no idea."

After ringing doorbell after doorbell, singing Christmas carols for some little pudding brains, and explaining over and over again that yes, he was indeed the prime minister, John felt a bit desperate.

Maybe he'd finally have some luck at Number 13. Or maybe not. A woman with crazy, curly blonde space hair opened the door.

"Hello. Sorry to disturb. Does Clara live here?" John asked wearily.

"No. She lives next door," the woman replied.

"Ah. Brilliant," John managed to get out. FINALLY he was so close to finding her.

"You're not who I think you are, are you?' the woman asked as he turned around to leave.

"Yes, I'm afraid I am, and I'm sorry about all the cock-ups. My cabinet are absolute crap. We hope to do better next year. Merry Christmas to you," John dismissively waved goodbye, too eager to bother with any sort of etiquette.

12.

The number loomed in front of him, both daunting and inviting. Of course his nerves would come back now, after being desensitized to hoping that Clara would be the one behind the door. But it wouldn't do to not knock now. He had come too far to leave empty handed. Deep breath.

What he didn't plan for, however, was for the door to be opened before he could even knock. Confused, he was met with a crowd of people, decked out in hats and scarves, clearly about to leave. To be fair, they seemed to be as startled as him.

"Ah. Hello. Is, er, Clara in?"

And then-

"Oh where the fuck is my fucking coat?"

He would recognize that voice anywhere. His bossy little control freak. And there she was. Clara. She was standing at the top of the staircase and-dear Lord what she TRYING to make him have a heart attack?!-what was she wearing?! He would never look at little red dresses the same way again.

"Oh. Hello," Clara at least seemed as speechless as he felt.

"Hello," his voice was definitely not that hoarse normally.

"Erm, this is my grandma, dad, stepmum, and our family friends Mr. Maitland and his kids Angie and Artie, and Mrs. Arden and her daughters Annabel and Maebh..." Clara trailed off, introducing the crowd in front of him.

"Erm, very nice to meet you," John awkwardly responded.

"And, erm...this is the...Prime Minister," Clara's introduction of him to her family left a lot to be desired, in John's opinion, but he supposed it was currently the best description of her association to him.

"Yes, we can see that, darling," Mr. Oswald interrupted.

"And erm, unfortunately, we're very late," Clara apologized to him, trying to convey within the depth of her eyes how truly sorry she was.

"It's the school Christmas concert, you see, John. And it's the first time all the local schools have joined together even St. Basil's, which is most-," Clara's grandma started to say before Clara cut her off.

"Too much detail, Grandma," Clara said firmly, but was interrupted by her father from saying any more.

"Anyway, how can we help, sir?" Mr. Oswald asked him.

"Well, I...just needed Clara," John said, before realizing how that sounded and hastily added, "...on some state business."

"Oh, right, yes. of course. Right, er...well perhaps you should come on later Clara," her father said reluctantly.

"Listen, I don't want to make you late for the concert," John started to say before Clara quickly cut in.

"No, it's nothing, really," Clara smiled, clearly still trying to control the situation.

"Maebh'll be very disappointed," Mrs. Arden chimed in, clearly looking at John, as if trying to guilt him into letting Clara go to the concert.

"No, really, it doesn't matter," Clara said forcefully.

But her voice appeared to be ignored as her grandma added, "The octopus costume's taken me months. Eight is a lot of legs, John."

"Mm. Erm...," John was at a loss how to respond exactly to such a domestic situation, but one more look at Clara clearly helped him make up his mind. He wasn't about to let her go that easily after everything they had been through, "Listen, why don't I give you a lift and then we can talk about this state business...business...in the car?"

"Okay," Clara's smile was simply beatific, her dimples telling John more than anything else that he had made the right choice.

After a few moments, every one was piled into their respective cars, and John found himself alone with Clara in his private vehicle. Well. Almost alone. Maebh was dressed like an octopus, seated between them.

"How far is this place?" John awkwardly leaned over Maebh, sitting quietly, but eagerly, in her octopus costume.

"Just round the corner," Clara replied, also leaning around the child in order to see John.

"Ah. Right. Well, er..." John had no idea what to say. He had finally gotten her alone, in a way, but was at a loss for what to do next. He really was too old for this sort of thing, so he said the first thing that came to mind, "I just wanted to say...thank you for the Christmas card."

"You're welcome. Look, I'm so sorry about that day. I came in and he slinked towards me and he's the President of the United States and nothing happened, I promise. I just felt like such a fool because...," Clara felt the words tumbling from her mouth, one after the other, without any sort of censor from her brain, "I think about you all the time, actually. And I think you're the man that I really..."

"We're here!" Maebh exclaimed excitedly as the car pulled to a stop.

"...love," Clara muttered, blushing prettily at the interruption and the confession.

John felt himself again floundering for the right words to say next. The woman he loved had just said she loved him back. That wasn't exactly something that happened every day. He was still trying to process Clara's confession, so he decided to steer the conversation away from anything he could potentially muck up.

"Oh, wow. That really was just round the corner - oof!" John remarked as Maebh climbed over him in full octopus dress in order to run towards the school.

Now they really were alone, and John cast around for something to say.

"Well, look, I...I think I'd better not come in, you know? The last thing anyone wants is some sleazy politician stealing the kids' thunder," John finally said resignedly.

"No, please come," Clara pleaded, her eyes shining, "It'll be great."

"No, I...I better not. But I will be...very...sorry...to drive away from you," John said remorsefully, his eyes bright with unsaid words behind them.

But Clara, his Clara, always surprised him, and she always had a plan.

"Just give me one second," Clara smiled at him before rushing out of the car towards the school.

xxLove Actually Is All Aroundxx

She finally home after another long day at the office. Her stepmum had been nagging her to send out her Christmas cards for ages, and seeing as it was only a week before Christmas, Clara begrudgingly admitted she might have a point.

She was just finishing up the last of them when she realized she had one blank card left in the box. Staring at the card, she felt like it was almost as if fate was telling her something. Well, her mum always did say that Christmas was a time for telling the truth. And it had been a long time since she had been honest with herself, and those that she loved. So really there was only one thing left to do. And there really was only one person she actually wanted to send a Christmas card to this year.

xxLove Is A Promisexx

Of course they were running late. Maebh and Artie were in the collective schools' Christmas pageant, and the children were all supposed to have been there ten minutes ago. Although, with so many people over at her house, it was a miracle they were able to get out the door at all.

Of course this would be the one moment where her usually pristine bedroom looked like it had been hit by a tornado, and Clara couldn't find her coat anywhere. Oh sod it all.

"Oh where the fuck is my fucking coat?" Clara shouted, going down the stairs when she looked up to find none other than John standing on her doorstep. She was never one for surprises, since she hated being out of control, but she couldn't help but think this one was extremely welcome. However, she was still in shock, so all she could think of saying in this moment was, "Hello."

"Hello," John said, his eyes sparkling as he gazed at her. Had his Scottish brogue always been that deep?

Attempting to seize control of the situation, as she was wont to do in awkward moments like these, she started introducing everyone, "Erm, this is my grandma, dad, stepmum, and our family friends Mr. Maitland and his kids Angie and Artie, and Mrs. Arden and her daughters Annabel and Maebh..."

"Erm, very nice to meet you," John awkwardly responded, clearly just as much at a loss what to say as she was.

"And, erm...this is the...," Clara wasn't exactly sure what to say. The, what, exactly? Man she was in love with? The man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with? Not her boyfriend, but hers all the same?"...Prime Minister."

"Yes, we can see that, darling," her dad said abruptly, interrupting her train of thought and what Clara was going to say.

"And erm, unfortunately, we're very late," Clara forged on ahead, as if her dad hadn't cut her off, apologizing to John, trying to convey how truly sorry she was. It wasn't every day that the Prime Minister showed up at your door. More importantly, it wasn't every day that the man she was in love with showed up apparently hell-bent on finding her.

Of course that was when Clara's grandma had to say, "It's the school Christmas concert, you see, John. And it's the first time all the local schools have joined together even St. Basil's, which is most-"

"Too much detail, Grandma," Clara said, absolutely mortified at her relatives and their knack for embarrassing her.

"Anyway, how can we help, sir?" her dad asked. Always one for focusing on the matter at hand, even if he wasn't a fan of the government.

"Well, I...just needed Clara...on some state business," John haltingly said, clearly making up a half-hearted excuse as to why he was there at all.

"Oh, right, yes. of course. Right, er...well perhaps you should come on later Clara," her father said hesitantly, clearly distrusting John since he was a government official.

"Listen, I don't want to make you late for the concert," John tentatively started to say, but Clara wouldn't have any of it.

"No, it's nothing, really," Clara smiled, still attempting to steer the situation in her favour. Sod the school play if it meant finally getting to talk with John alone.

"Maebh'll be very disappointed," Mrs. Arden said, clearly trying to guilt John into letting her go to the play.

"No, really, it doesn't matter," Clara said determinedly, glaring at Mrs. Arden.

But her vote in the matter apparently didn't count as her grandma chimed in, "The octopus costume's taken me months. Eight is a lot of legs, John."

"Mm. Erm...Listen, why don't I give you a lift and then we can talk about this state business...business...in the car?" John suggested.

"Okay," Clara could almost cry with relief. Clearly he was as reluctant as she was to leave the other, despite the awkward encounter. There was no stopping the smile threatening to consume half of her face.

A few squabbles about the seating arrangements later, and Clara found herself in a car with John and Maebh, the younger girl sat between them.

"How far is this place?" John inquired, peering at her from around Maebh's costumed head.

"Just round the corner," Clara said lightly, at a loss for how exactly honest she could be in a car with a child between them.

"Ah. Right. Well, er...I just wanted to say...thank you for the Christmas card," John said awkwardly.

Clara smiled at him, proud that he was trying anyways, "You're welcome. Look, I'm so sorry about that day. I came in and he slinked towards me and he's the President of the United States and nothing happened, I promise. I just felt like such a fool because...I think about you all the time, actually. And I think you're the man that I really..."

"We're here!" Maebeh announced.

"...love," Clara trailed off.

She wasn't sure if she was glad for Maebh's interruption stopping her clearly insane ramble or resentful of it, since it was Christmas after all, and she was tired of lying.

"Oh, wow. That really was just round the corner - oof!" John grunted as Maebh climbed over him in hear eagerness to escape the car.

Now they were finally alone, and Clara had no idea what to say. Her confession was still hanging in the air, and wasn't sure what to do next.

"Well, look, I...I think I'd better not come in, you know? The last thing anyone wants is some sleazy politician stealing the kids' thunder," John finally said, looking at her longingly.

"No, please come," Clara immediately insisted, "It'll be great."

She couldn't have him leave so soon after finding him.

"No, I...I better not. But I will be...very...sorry...to drive away from you," John said meaningfully, the look he gave her clearly communicating so much more than anything else he had said that evening.

But Clara was determined. It was so rare that life gave anyone second chances, and she wasn't about to let hers slip away from her.

"Just give me one second," Clara smiled at him before rushing out of the car towards the school.

Quickly checking to make sure the coast was clear, she popped back to the car to announce triumphantly, "Come on in. We can watch from backstage."

Clearly John didn't need much convincing. He took one look at her smiling face and said, "Okay, Alonso, I won't be long."

Getting out of the car, he gazed down on her again, "Look, this has to be a very secret visit, okay?"

"Don't worry," Clara beamed at him, "This was my school. I know my way around. Come on."

xxLove Actually Is All Aroundxx

"Look, the sheep are ready already and you're not even..."

He would recognize that voice anywhere, and indeed in the next second a blur of fiery red hair obscured his vision as she nearly ran into him, "Oh, John!"

And in the next second he was tackled in a hug from his sister Donna Noble.

"Ah! Oh, how are you?" John got out, a bit muffled from the unexpected hug, (and he never was one much for hugging).

"What the hell are you doing here Space Boy?" Donna

"Well, you know...I..." John struggled to come up with a legitimate excuse that did not involve the words "Clara Oswald", and definitely involved the words "family" and "Christmas".

"I always tell your secretary's secretary's secretary these things are going on - but it never occurred to me you'd actually turn up..." Donna chattered away excitedly, seemingly all in one breath of air.

"Welllll...I thought it was time I did. I didn't want anyone to see, so I'm gonna hide somewhere," John said sheepishly to Donna before turning to look at his niece and nephew, "Good luck out there guys!"

"I have to tell you, I've never been gladder to see my stupid big brother. Thank you," Donna whispered in his ear, hugging him again. That was unexpected from his sister, who, now that he thought of it, seemed like something was bothering her.

But before he could ask about it, Donna said, "Oh now! We haven't been introduced!"

Released from his embrace, John turned around to realize that Donna had just realized Clara was standing behind him.

"Oh. right. Well this is Clara, who's my, erm...who's my, erm...carer," John finally decided. Apparently, he was just as rubbish at introductions to family members as Clara was.

"Hi," Clara smiled at the older woman.

"Carer, hm?" Donna looked her up and down shrewdly, "Watch out that he keeps his hands off you. Twenty years ago, you'd have been his type."

She laughed, eyes sparkling with mirth as she sneaked a sidelong gaze at her brother.

"I'll be very careful," Clara assured her before saying to John, "Don't try something, sir, just because it's Christmas."

Clara winked at him cheekily, laughing along with his sister. The nerve of that impossible girl.

"Ha ha," John laughed sourly.

"No, seriously," Donna said again, looking at Clara, but before she could say anything else the school bell ringed loudly.

"Oh! Come on. Showtime. Quickly!" Donna began ushering her kids to their places, calling out after her, "Look, I'll see you after, yeah?"

She looked at John meaningfully, clearly he would be getting an earful about what she thought of his new "carer".

"Probably, yeah," John said noncommittally, but still gave his loud younger sister a small smile in return.

After she left, Clara grabbed his hand. Had his palms always been that sweaty?

"Come on," Clara laughed, grinning at him as she tugged him along towards an unknown destination backstage.

xxLove Is A Promisexx

Quickly realizing that the woman they ran into was John's sister, Clara stood uncertainly behind him. As brother and sister exchanged one of the most awkward hugs she had ever witnessed, she looked over at his niece and nephew. They didn't look a lot like him, but the family resemblance was still noticeable.

"Oh now! We haven't been introduced!"

Clara's attention quickly snapped back to the adults, as she realized that John's sister was waiting for an introduction.

"Oh. right. Well this is Clara, who's my, erm...who's my, erm...," John seemed to be struggling for an exact label and Clara was equal parts amused and curious to see what he would finally decide on, "...carer."

Well. She certainly cared about him. It wasn't an entirely inaccurate description.

"Hi," Clara smiled at the older woman.

"Carer, hm?" his sister said, scrutinizing her before finally deciding that whatever she was looking for, she had found in Clara, "Watch out that he keeps his hands off you. Twenty years ago, you'd have been his type."

Clara couldn't help but laugh, eyes twinkling in amusement along with the red head's.

"I'll be very careful," Clara jokingly affirmed. She turned her gaze upon John and couldn't help but tease him, "Don't try something, sir, just because it's Christmas."

Winking, she laughed at John's peevish expression.

"Ha ha," he retorted.

"No, seriously," Donna said again, looking at her, but before she could say anything else the school bell ringed loudly.

"Oh! Come on. Showtime. Quickly!" Donna's focus all directed once again at herding her kids, calling out after her, "Look, I'll see you after, yeah?"

"Probably, yeah," John said shrugged.

Determined not to be interrupted again, Clara grasped his hand, clinging to it as if it was her only lifeline to earth.

"Come on," she tugged on his arm, guiding him backstage. He might have been grumbling the entire way, but Clara wasn't fooled, he was following her lead too easily.

Soon enough, Clara found her hiding spot backstage in the wings, peering around to see the childrens' performance. It was "All I Want for Christmas Is You". She smirked at the coincidentally appropriate song choice.

Clara was entirely focused on the song and dance number until she felt a solid, warm wall behind her. Leaning back against his firm chest, she smiled when she felt his hands gently alight on her hips. Not that they had too much time to get comfortable. At the sound of footsteps approaching, John quickly tugged her away to another enclosed, curtained area.

Now they were facing each other, holding each other in a loose embrace. Her heart felt like it was drowning out any other sound in the world. His soulful blue eyes were the only thing she could see. This was the moment. It was now or never to finally get her second chance. He was beginning to lean in closer to her, but slowly - too slowly for Clara's tastes. And his face was so far away, what with him being so inconveniently tall.

So really there was only one way to solve the problem.

Grasping him by the lapels of his jacket, Clara yanked him down to her height, kissing him for all she was worth.

xxLove Actually Is All Aroundxx

John barely heard the song ending. Clara Oswald was snogging him. HE was SNOGGING Clara Oswald.

He was blissfully unaware of anything else going on around him. All that mattered was the taste of her lips, and the feel of her tongue in his mouth.

That is, he was completely consumed by Clara until he felt her suddenly pull away from him.

It was then that he realized the room was silent and a bright light was shining in his eyes.

They were in the center of the stage, the curtains had pulled up, and the audience had gone silent staring at them.

"Right. So, erm, not quite as secret as we'd hoped," John muttered to Clara awkwardly, "What do we do now?"

He felt a small hand take his, and the crowd starting to applaud.

"Smile. Take a bow. And a wave," Clara replied, plastering a smile on her face before taking a bow in front of the crowd of people, now giving them a standing ovation, as he did the same. After all, she was the boss.

xxLove Is A Promisexx

ONE MONTH LATER

Clara hadn't seen John in a week, and she was rather put out by it all.

Since officially becoming a couple she had accompanied John everywhere he went for business, her dreams of traveling were finally coming true. Even if in between their real adventures he had to attend to some stuffy official state business in between. They had already traversed over a significant portion of Europe, and had gone on a non-business related holiday together to South America.

But this past week, duty had called in the form of a quick visit to America, one that John and Clara had wisely decided she shouldn't accompany him on. Not because she was strictly banned from going, precisely, but considering her last interaction with President Saxon was not something either of them cared to remember they decided she could hold the fort at home.

So here she was, waiting eagerly at the arrivals gate in the red dress that John had confessed to her one night was secretly his favourite. Sentimental idiot. It was the same one she had wore to the Christmas play when they shared their first kiss.

She was right at the front of the barrier, since she was so short she was afraid of missing him otherwise. But she needn't have feared because when he entered the arrivals gate the sound of camera shutters mingled with shouts of "Prime Minister!" "Over here!" immediately increased.

Oh sod it all. She didn't exactly have a lot of dignity to lose when it came to that man.

"Oof!" John exclaimed as Clara had just literally jumped him in front of all the reporters, wrapping her legs around his middle and her arms around his neck.

"God, you weigh a lot," John snarked, but the weight of his words was significantly decreased since he was also grinning at Clara's enthusiastic greeting.

"Oh, shut your face," Clara smirked as she leaned in for a welcome home snog.


End file.
